


A Hunter's Journey

by mutant_superwholock117



Category: Doctor Who, Supernatural, Thor (Movies), X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Character Death, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Demons, I Tried, Multi, Music, Mutants, Relationship(s), Winchesters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-28 19:00:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3866161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mutant_superwholock117/pseuds/mutant_superwholock117
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Elaine Dobbs, a hunter who, while fighting to protect her family and her love, learns a few unexpected things about herself along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had another version of this story posted here before, but I took it down and made some changes. Hopefully everyone still likes it (:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only characters I own are my original ones. I don't own anything or anyone from xmen or supernatural or any other fandoms I end up throwing in later on. Comments, suggestions, criticism, etc is welcome and appreciated. (:

_ Guns. That’s all I can hear is guns.  _

_ Gunshots and screams. _

_ All those innocent kids… _

_ I run down the hallways, looking in every classroom I pass. _

_ I have to find him. I have to find him _ now.

_ I have to find... _

“Elaine. Hey, Elaine. Wake up.”

Someone shakes my shoulder, ripping me away from my dream. I open my eyes slowly, coming face to face with Dean’s green eyes. 

“Rise and shine babydoll.” he says, flashing that infectious, carefree smile of his. “Time to get going.” 

“Now?” I ask, my voice raspy from sleep.

“Well, breakfast first. That’s obvious. Do you think that diner down the street sells pie?”

I sigh and sit up, knowing there’s no getting rid of him. Especially now that he had his mind on pie. 

“How close are we now?” I ask, rubbing my eyes trying to shake away sleep and the rest of the dream. 

“If we keep going we should get to Stanford by tonight.” he says. I feel the bed shift as he lays down next to me. 

“Great.” I say. Taking advantage of him lying next to me, I lay back down, my head leaning against his shoulder. 

“Elaine, we’ll only get there by then if we keep moving.” Dean says pointedly, shaking his shoulder.

“I know, I know. Just give me a minute.” I mumble, turning so that my face is pressed into his side. His body heat radiates out to mine, and it’s warmer than any blanket.

I feel him wrap an arm around me, pulling me closer. “You always say that, and it always ends up being at least ten minutes.” He tries to scold me, but I can hear teasing in his voice.

“You know you use my unwillingness to get up as an excuse to stay in bed longer.” I say, my words a bit muffled by his shirt. I breath in and his scent of cologne, leather, and something I can only describe as  _ Dean _ washes over me. 

Dean scoffs. “I don't know what you’re talking about.” but he moves in closer, pulling the covers back over us. His knuckles on one hand move in slow circles on my back, while the other presses flat against it, keeping me close to him. I trace patterns on his back with my fingers, like I’m finger painting. He sighs, and his head drops onto my shoulder. 

I love mornings like this. Where we could both forget about all the problems we deal with every day, and just relax. 

Dean and I had always been good at relieving the pressure for each other. It had always been that way; ever since the Winchesters sort of adopted me into their crazy family. I’ve been with them since I was nine years old, and it had been a hell of a ride. 

Literally, sometimes, with all the stuff we hunt down on a daily basis.

So mornings like this are very appreciated. Especially since there isn’t much time for them.

Usually Dean and I would hunt with his dad, John. But Dean and I have been taking on cases on our own more and more.So that made it easier for mornings like this. 

I open my eyes and tilt my head up. Dean’s eyes are lightly closed, his long eyelashes fluttering over his skin. My eyes move down slightly, and land on his lips. Damn, those lips. The kind that people write stories about. Perfectly shaped, completely kissable lips. 

Thisclose to mine. 

It would be so easy to close the distance.

I think about doing it for a second. I had been dreaming of it for years now. Kissing him, or just him in general.

Sometimes I think it could happen. Sometimes he acts like he wants it to happen. He’ll get closer than usual, or he’ll look at me different. And I think maybe I should make a move.

And then I remember this is Dean Winchester-the king of making moves. So if he wanted something to happen, he would have done something about it by now. He’s not one to wait around and take his time when it comes to girls. 

I almost do it, just to see what happens. But then he’s slowly moving away from me and saying it’s really time to go now. So I get up, grab clothes and go to the small bathroom the motel room came with to change. Swallowing the lump that has suddenly appeared in my throat.

It wasn’t like being close to Dean was something new. We had been that way practically ever since  we had known each other. It was just natural to have our arms around each other, or for my head to be on his shoulder. It didn’t feel weird to be that close, like some people might expect. It just felt normal.

Sometimes though, it’s infuriating. To have him holding me close one minute, and then have him treat me like “one of the guys” the next. It always left me confused and frustrated.

But it wouldn’t work telling him to stop. There had never been very much awkwardness or uncomfortable feelings between Dean and I. And I didn’t want to start any because I couldn’t handle a little crush.

Or, maybe a sort of, big crush…

Shaking my head, I throw these thoughts away, and try to focus on something else. 

But in this dingy motel bathroom, there isn’t much to focus on except brushing my teeth, and the flickering light bulb. 

So to press out my thoughts of Dean, I think about my dream instead.

This wasn’t the first time I had that dream. But it was always the same. I was at a school, we were under attack, and I was trying to find...someone.

But I never could remember who I’m supposed to find. And I always woke up before I could figure it out. 

This dream started happening a few months ago. At first it worried me, having the same dream every few nights. Now I just want to figure out what it means. 

I finish up in the bathroom, and then start packing my stuff while Dean takes his turn.

It never takes that long to pack or unpack. We’ve been living out of a dufflebag for most of our lives. So it never took that long to relocate. It made our job much easier. 

I finish packing before Dean gets out, so I take out my sketchbook to occupy myself. 

I have been working on this drawing of Dean for a while now. It was all done, except for his eyes. They’re the hardest part . Bright green, and always full of light and laughter. I want to make sure they come out just right.

After working on it for a little bit, I hear Dean shut off the shower, and so I put the drawing away. I don’t want anyone to see it until it’s finished.

A few minutes later Dean appears, in jeans, a white t-shirt, and a flannel. His hair still mussed up and damp from his shower. 

We pack our stuff into the Impala-Dean’s pride and joy-and then after checking out, head down to the diner.

Which, to Dean’s excitement, has plenty of pie.


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as we’re finished eating, we head back on the road. 

Dean and I are headed to Stanford to get Dean’s younger brother, Sam. 

When Sammy had left for college, it was made pretty clear by both him and John that he wasn’t to be bothered while he’s up there.

It was John who mostly enforced that idea. He hated the thought of Same going to college instead of hunting. 

Dean and I still sent him letter and emails; though I did it more often. I usually had to push Dean into doing it. He took Sam’s leaving the hardest out of anyone.He agreed with John that as part of the Winchester family, he should be hunting as well. 

I, on the other hand, could understand why Sammy wanted to get out of hunting so bad. And even now, I still feel bad about pulling Sam back into it all. But this was more than just some simple case. 

John had left Dean and I to take care of a case on our own; as he would every now and then. This time was different though. John had been gone for way too long without contacting us. And not only that, but we have no idea where he went. 

At first Dean and I were going to try and find him on our own. But we figured it might be better if Sam was involved. It was his dad too, after all.

So we had finished up our case in New Orleans and started on our way to Stanford. 

I’m a little nervous about seeing Sammy again.  The three of us had all been really close as kids; but him going to college kind of tampered with that relationship. So I’m not sure how he would take to us showing up and asking him to leave school. Hopefully he won’t be too upset.

A blast of  _ Metallica _ pulls me out of my thoughts. I jump in my seat and turn to Dean, who’s mouthing along to the lyrics. Or singing. The music’s so loud I can’t tell. 

“Dude, don’t you have anything else besides  _ Metallica _ ?” I ask, or more like shout. “You’ve been playing it the whole freaking ride.”

“Sure I’ve got other music.” Dean yells over the music. “But nothing quite as good.” he grins over at me for a second before turning his eyes back on the road.

I roll my eyes, but can’t help a small smile from forming. Leaning back against the leather seat, I close my eyes against the music, and try to get a little bit more sleep before we get to Stanford.

***************

_ I have to find him...I need to find him. _

_ What if it’s too late. What if they’ve gotten to him already? _

_ What if he’s… _

_ I have to find him. I have to find- _

_ A loud gunshot cracks through the air. Not like the last several I’ve heard. Louder. _

_ And closer.  _

_ Opening my mouth, I go to yell out his name one more time... _

“Son of a  _ BITCH _ !”

I’m ripped from the dream by that loud shout. Shooting up in my seat, I look around; my eyes wide and heart beating like crazy.

“Dean?” I call, looking around the Impala, my worry growing when I see he’s not there. “Dean?!”

_ Breathe. _ I tell myself.  _ Breathe, breathe. In and out. You’re fine. Just a dream. Just a dream… _

I get my breathing under control, and then climb out of the Impala; slipping my gun from the glove compartment into my pocket. 

Dean disappearing, and the adrenaline from my dream has me extremely nervous and  on edge.

Looking around I realize we’re parked in the back of a gas station, and the hood of Baby is open. 

“Damn it.” I hear in a gruff voice.

I turn around and see Dean walking out of the gas station. He looks frustrated, but not scared. So we must not be in any danger.

I drop my gun back into the car and walk over to meet Dean.

“What’s going on?” I ask. “Where are we?”

“We are hours away from Stanford, with engine trouble.” Dean says. “We can’t keep driving until it’s fixed.” He rolls his eyes. “Which is going to cost an awesome amount of money.” 

“You’re good with cars.” I say. “You’ve fixed Baby more times than I can remember. Can’t you do something about it?”

“I don’t have any tools.” Dean says, staring at Baby as if she were a personal friend he let down. Which to him, it probably felt that way. he always hated when the Impala broke down. “Besides, it’ll be faster if we just have it towed and fixed. The guy inside said there’s a mechanic not too far from here.”

Which is exactly what we do, and exactly how we find ourselves checking into another motel room almost an hour later.

“Well,” Dean says after we’re settled. “No point in just sitting around here waiting for Baby to get better. Let’s go check out the town.” He grins. “Have one of our little ‘days off’ as you call them.”

I look up from my suitcase. “What’s to check out?” I ask. “It’s the same as every other small town we’ve drove through over the years.”

“Yeah, and this motel room is the same as every other one we’ve lived in over the years. Dusty, smelly, and boring. I’d rather look around the same town than be stuck in the same room. Come on.” as he talks, Dean walks closer, until he’s close enough to take my hand. 

“Let’s go do something exciting, Elaine.”

I blush and look down, like I always do when he says my name like that Like just the word itself is special and as if me, the meaning behind the word is something to be treasured.

Looking back into those lovely green eyes of his, I grin and ask, “Something that doesn’t have to do with monsters you mean?”

Dean returns the smile. “exactly. Now, I know that’s gonna be hard for us.” he jokes. 

“I’m sure we’ll manage.” I say, allowing him to lead me out the door.”

As much as Dean loves the job, he also likes to get away from it all once in awhile. 

John could never see that though. And Dean would never let him. That’s why Dean and I usually only get breaks when we’re working a case alone, or when John takes off for a few days. 

Dean and I didn’t really mind though. It made our little vacations even more fun since they’re so rare.

**********

We spend an hour or so just walking around town, window shopping and being tourists. It’s a lot slower paced than what we’re used to, but it’s great. The two of us, walking through town, ams linked, laughing and having a good time without too much to worry about.

Sometimes, during these trips, I wish it could be this easy all the time.

After a while we find a place to get lunch and then bring it to a small park in the middle of town we had come across earlier. 

We make a picnic on the grass and enjoy our time in the sun, and not having to wolf down a quick meal before a hunt, but instead being able to take our time and actually stop and taste the food as it goes down.

**Dean’s P.O.V.**

After we’ve eaten, I ruffle through Elaine’s bag and pull out  _ Alice in Wonderland _ . It’s something I found her reading one night, and had convinced her to read it to me while she read it. 

Which wasn’t really that hard to do. We’ve done this a lot over the years. I don’t always have the patience or time to sit down and read a book, but I still loved the stories.

So whenever we could, Elaine would read to me whatever latest book she had managed to get her hands on. And I would do the same for her. After a while we did it so much we’d only be reading if we were reading aloud to the other.

I hold up the book and ask, “Feel like a few chapters?”

“Sure.” she says. “Who’s reading?”

“You read first.” I say, leaning up against the closest tree and getting comfortable. “And I”ll switch with you later.” 

“Okay” Elaine says. She moves in closer then lays against my side, my arms coming up to wrap around her. She leans her head back against my shoulder, and begins to read.

At first instead of concentrating on the story, I can only think about half of her body molding to fit mine, and the burning heat it’s causing. 

Now, I’m used to being close to her. Elaine and I have been like that for years. And I’m used to wanting to be  _ extra _ close to her. That was nothing new. But lately it’s been getting harder and harder to keep it hidden. Maybe it’s that we’re both getting older. Or maybe it’s because we’ve been working on cases by ourselves more and more. And without dad around watching us all the time, it left less….distractions, and so it was easier to notice things. 

Big things like how she could look beautiful whether she had just come back from a hunt and was in ripped jeans and a dirty t-shirt, or she was going to a red carpet party. And how when we’d sleep in the same bed-which is practically every night- she’d roll over towards me in her sleep and her body would fit perfectly and smoothly against mine.  But also small things. Like the way her lips part when she’s concentrating hard on something. And the way she laughs. Head thrown back, her face happy and completely open. I love making her laugh like that.

I think about all these things as Elaine continues to read. Her voice, soft but strong, carries the words and brings me to wonderland. 

That voice of hers has been carrying me and Sammy to other worlds ever since Elaine joined our little family when we were kids.

That would be how she used to comfort Sam when he had a nightmare, or take care of my anger when I couldn’t do it myself. 

Shaking away my thoughts I tune back into what she’s reading. 

_ There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it: a Dormouse was sitting between them, fast asleep, and the other two were using it as a cushion, resting their elbows on it, and talking over its head. 'Very uncomfortable for the Dormouse,' thought Alice; 'only, as it's asleep, I suppose it doesn't mind. _

Elaine suddenly pauses and frowns. “Hey Dean have we...have we read this book before?”

“No, I don’t think so babydoll why?”

“I don’t know it just seems, familiar.” She holds the place with her finger and then flips to the front of the book. “Where’d this book come from?”

“Probably some library we passed through a while ago. You’ve had it for a while.” I say.

“Yeah…I wonder why we haven’t read it before.” Shaking her head, she goes back to reading.

I listen to her read one, two, three more chapters of the book before I take over. 

My voice doesn’t always flow as smooth as hers, and I’m always a little nervous at first, so I stammer over a few words at first. But I get into it pretty fast. So fast, I fly over four chapters without even realizing it.

By the time I stop to take a break and ask if she wants to take over, Elaine has fallen asleep on my shoulder.

I smile down at her peacefully stepping face. She’s a knockout even when she’s asleep. Her eyelashes flutter as she dreams, and the sun hits her just right so her dark brown hair shows streaks of blonde and red. Her lips part just slightly and start to move, as if she’s whispering in her dream. 

Moving slowly so I don’t disturb her, I set the book down on the grass, and then move her so she’s laying down.

I lay down next to her, tucking my arm underneath her head so she has a pillow, and wrapping the other around her waist and pulling her in. The last thing I’m aware of before I fall asleep as well is a faint smile on Elaine’s lips as she rests her forehead against my chest.

**********

I wake up a little while later with Elaine on top of me, her legs tangled with mine. My arms are wrapped around her, one holding her shoulders, and the other securing her waist. 

The two of us have woken up like this, and several other different variations of this, many times. And each time was like the first time it had ever happened. 

The first time had been years ago, when we were both sixteen. We were both up late the night before talking and listening to music on the roof of the motel. It was where we’d go to hang out sometimes. Our secret spot away from things without ever really leaving. 

We had been awake until around two a.m, and once we crawled back into the room, we just flopped on the bed without caring how we ended up. Sometime during the night during our half-asleep haze, we moved closer to each other until we were curled up under the covers together. It was the first time I held a girl’s hips, or was that close to a girl’s face. And the first time I was so close to one as beautiful as Elaine’s. Even at sixteen, she was gorgeous. 

I had stayed gawking at her face for who knows how long. Staying perfectly still, afraid if I moved too fast she would run away. Her arms were around me, her palms flat against my back; and I could feel her touch burning through the thin white shirt I had been wearing. 

After a few moments Elaine’s eyes had fluttered open, releasing big brown sleepy eyes. Her lips had turned up, and she had murmured. “‘Morning cowboy.” 

Her lips had been so close. I’d wanted to kiss girls before. Had wanted to kiss Elaine before. But never as badly as I did then. And as I whispered “Good morning babydoll.” I was simultaneously leaning in, not even thinking about my actions. My head was foggy and all I could think about was her and her lips. 

Until Sammy pounced on the bed between us, announcing he was hungry, and since dad was gone he wanted Elaine to make her famous waffles. Oh I could have strangled the kid. 

But almost every night after that ended up the same way. And every time felt just as new, and just as amazing.

But, every time was also a blow. Because it was a constant reminder that while I’m always close to her, I can never have her. Not the way I want her anyway.

**Elaine’s P.O.V.**

My eyes slowly open, and I’m met with the sight of the blue shirt that Dean is wearing. 

Twisting my head, my eyes meet with his. Still drowsy and only half open in his relaxed state; but beautiful all the same. 

I’m not sure how I moved on top of him in my sleep, but I decide not to question it.

“Hello.” I murmur, a small grin on my lips.

He grins back. “Hey there.”

We’ve been asleep so long the sun has started to set, casting a pinkish glow around the park. 

I move so that I’m not on top of Dean anymore, but still laying next to him. He wraps an arm around my side and I lean against him. “Today was a good day.” I say, my voice still soft from sleep.

“Sure was babydoll.” Dean says. “After we find dad we should have more of these.”

I nod against his shoulder in agreement. 

We lie there for a while until suddenly Dean sits up, taking me with him, and says, “Hey. I got an idea.” he smiles down at me. “The day’s not over yet. Why not finish it off?”

“Okay,” I say, smiling as I pick up on his excitement. “And how should we do that?”

He intertwines his hand with mine and pulls me to my feet. “Miss Dobbs,” he says,using the fake british accent we had used so many times to make Sammy laugh. He lifts my hand to kiss the back of it. “May I have the extreme honor, of taking a lady so lovely as yourself out to dinner?”

I giggle, my smile and accent matching his. “Why Dean Winchester, are you asking  _ me _ out on a  _ date _ ?” 

“Yes, I believe I am.” He says, using our connected hands to pull me closer to his smile. 

“How does dinner sound?” He asks. 

“Dinner sounds great.” I say. Without taking my hand from his I grab my bag and we leave the park. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not totally sure about how I fell about this chapter. It might be a little too corny/mushy/dramatic. Let me know what you guys think.

“That was the best restaurant I have ever been to in my entire life.” I say as we walk back into the motel room. 

“That’s only because we’ve been living off of freezer dinners for the past year.” Dean points out as I throw my bag onto the bed. 

I turn around to face him, hands on hips. “Very true. Still we should eat at those more often.” I step closer. “They’re nice. It was so pretty there…” I smile, remembering the soft candle lights, and the piano music that had no origin but had been constantly playing throughout the meal. 

Dean chuckles. “Um, Elaine. I think you had a little too much wine.”

I scoff. “That’s stupid. I’m-” I go to step closer to him, but stumble over the heels I had dug out of the very bottom of my duffle bag. I fall right into Dean, his arms coming up to wrap around me, keeping me from falling.

“-fine.” I finish, both of us laughing a little bit. Okay maybe I did have a little too much wine tonight. But so what? It was the first time we had anything besides beer. And it took us what? A year to save up enough spare cash for a proper dinner. It was so worth it.

I look up, and Dean’s grin is right next to mine. “You’re pretty cute like this.” Dean says, his voice soft, and a little blurry just like mine. I don’t think I’m the only one who enjoyed the wine…

My lips turn up, and they’re so close to his they almost brush. “You’re not too bad either, cowboy.”

I’m suddenly hyper aware of his hands; one holding onto my arm, the callouses on his fingertips brushing my skin and making me shiver. The other is on my back, his palm flat against it, pressing me closer to him. 

I laugh. Not just the wine, but the whole day has taken my edge off, and has made my lips too loose. “This kind of feels like a real date.”

He pauses, his grin shrinking but still there on his lips.  _ Those lips… _ I think, my brain fuzzy at being so close to him. It’s happened dozens of times, but this time felt different.  _ Those perfect, pouty lips _ .

“Isn’t it?” Dean asks, his voice like silk ghosting across my skin. My hands trail up his button down shirt, curling into the fabric when they reach his chest. Partly to keep myself steady, but also because my body is screaming that he isn’t close enough, and why aren’t I pulling him closer?.

And what does he mean, “Isn’t it?”

“What do you mean ‘Is it’?” I ask. “This was just us having a day off.” I pause. “Wasn’t it?”

“Was it?” he asks. 

His lips are a breath away, and my chest is pressed up against his. The scent of leather that always follows him around intoxicates me more than the wine has, and I find myself about to close that very small distance. About to risk it all- our friendship, hunting relationship- for a kiss I’ve been dreaming about for ages…

I stop, second and third and fourth thoughts clamouring inside my head. All the ways this could go wrong pop up, and I’m all set to pull away and pass it off as a drunken mistake.

But then I hear him whisper my name, and all doubts melt from my head.

We both lean in, ready...when suddenly his phone starts blaring a rock song from his back pocket. 

**Dean’s P.O.V**

Damn. Elaine’s in my arms, and we’re both loose and her lips are so so soft looking. And she’s so so close…

My eyes sweep down over her. She’s in a pale blue summer dress, with her dark hair flowing over her bare shoulders. The necklace I gave her when we were eighteen in the center of her chest; her eyes gleaming up at me in the moonlight filtering in from the open window. 

I take my hand from her arm and brush away some stray hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. I let my fingers linger, brushing across her face. Her skin is perfectly smooth underneath my rough hands. 

Slowly, I cup the back of her neck and gently pull her in. 

“Elaine…” her name falls from my lips, and her mouth is so close to mine that the whisper drops right on top of hers. 

_ Finally, finally, finally _ . I think as I lean in closer and closer…

Only to be interrupted by my phone.

I think about ignoring it for a second. But it could be dad, or something else important. 

“Sorry,” I apologize. “Hold this thought.” 

I drag myself away-but only a few steps-and answer the phone.

Turns out it’s just the mechanic, saying Baby’s fixed and ready to go. I never thought I’d be upset to hear that Baby’s up and running. 

“That was the mechanic.” I say. “Car’s ready. Guy said we can pick her up whenever we want.”

I step closer, wanting to return to where we were before, but Elaine straightens up. 

“Oh!” she says. “Oh, good. We should…” she stops, as if she forgot what words are. “...should go, you know. Go get her. Soon. So we can go get Sam.” she stammers, looking anywhere but me. Her hand comes up to fiddle the necklace, a nervous tic she’s had ever since I gave it to her.

I reach out and take her hand, pulling it away from the necklace. My thumb running circles on the back of her hand. Something I’ve always done to calm her down in the past. 

I want to ask her if all that was a mistake. If it was just the wine, or if I was just reading her horribly wrong. But her eyes are dropped down to her feet, and I can tell if it weren’t so dark I’d see a blush.

But I don't want to push her and make her even more uncomfortable, so all I do is lean my forehead against hers, and close my eyes. 

_ Are we ever going to get our moment? _

 

**Elaine’s P.O.V**

_ Is anything ever going to happen between the two of us? _


	4. Chapter 4

We arrive at Stanford the next night. By now the awkwardness of the previous day has passed, and Dean and I are back to normal.

When we get to Sam’s apartment, we realize we have no way to get in. We try knocking, calling him, but never get an answer. So finally Dean and I figure we have no choice but to just...let ourselves in.

I pick the lock on Sam’s door-a skill all three of us have gotten pretty good at over the years-and Dean follows me inside.

Stealth not always being one of his strong suits, Dean lets the door slam behind him; and I spin around to shush him. Even with how dark it is in the room I can see him rolling his eyes.

The two of us inch through the apartment, careful not to trip over anything as we try to find Sam. 

I grab Dean’s hand to keep us from separating; forcing myself to ignore the flash of sparks and adrenaline that comes with it. I feel him tentatively squeeze my hand as we keep going. 

A floorboard suddenly creaks underneath our feet and we freeze. I cringe, hoping that wasn’t as loud as it seemed. 

Out of the corner of my eye something moves, and I whirl around just in time to see whatever it is launch itself at Dean.

**Dean’s P.O.V.**

“Wh-Dean!” Elaine cries, and suddenly someone-or something- is attacking me from behind, sending me sprawling into Elaine, both of us landing on the floor. 

I pop back up a moment later and turn on the attacker, which, even with the shadows I can tell is Sam. I fight to keep him off of us, and am eventually able to pin him to the ground. 

“Woah, easy tiger.” I say, a grin creeping into my lips. Not exactly how I pictured the reunion, but all things considered, it ain't too bad. 

“Dean?” Sammy asks, staring up at me as if he's not sure whether to believe I'm here or not. Man does his hair look stupid. I really hope that's just the bad lighting in here. 

“You scared the crap out of me.” he accuses breathlessly as I laugh. 

“That’s cause you’re out of practice.”

I move to get up but a second later Sam’s flipping us and has me pinned underneath him.

“Or not.” I admit. “Get off me.”

**Elaine’s P.O.V.**

I pull both of them to their feet.

“Dean, Elaine, what the hell are you two doing here?” Sam asks. 

“Well, we were lookin’ for a few beers.” Dean jokes. I roll my eyes and open my mouth to explain.

“Sam?” A female voice floats across the room, cutting me off as the lights flip on. Now that I can see him, my gaze sticks on Sammy.

He’s definitely grown up. And gotten  _ a lot _ taller. He got pretty cute. The hair’s a little goofier now, but he makes it work.

“Jess,” Sam says, and I turn my attention to the blonde who has appeared in the doorway. “Dean, Elaine, this is my girlfriend Jessica.”

“Wait, your siblings?” The girl-Jess-smiles.

“I love the smurfs.” Dean cracks, eyes on her low cut crop top. “But I gotta say, Snoopy was always more my thing.”

I frown slightly, and then realization hits me. I glance down at the old gray and faded Snoopy and Woodstock shirt I had thrown on this morning. I bite the inside of my lip in an attempt to hide a smile.

“Anyways we gotta borrow your boyfriend here for a second. Talk about some private family business.”

“Nice meeting you.” I chime in. 

Dean reaches out a hand to Sam but he declines. “No.” he says, moving to stand next to Jess. “Whatever you want to say you can say it in front of her.” 

Dean and I exchange a look. I shrug, “Okay.” I say. We both turn to face them “Jo- _ dad _ , hasn’t been home in a few days.”

“So he’s working overtime. He’ll stumble back in sooner or later.” Sam says.

“Dad’s on a  _ hunting trip _ .” Dean clarifies. “And he hasn’t been home in a few days.”

Sam tenses, more serious about the whole thing now. “Jess excuse us.” he says. “We need to go outside.”

**********

“I mean come on guys you can’t just  _ break in _ during the middle of the night and expect me to hit the road with you.” Sam complains as we go downstairs.

“You’re not hearing us Sammy. Dad’s  _ missing _ .” Dean says. “We need you to help us find him.”

Sam tries to protest about all the other times John’s been “missing” but then ended up coming back after a while.

“He’s always missing, and he’s always  _ fine. _ ” 

“It’s different this time Sam.” I protest. “He’s been gone for too long, with no communication at all.”

“Are you gonna come with us or not?” Dean asks. 

“I”m not.” Sammy answers. 

“Why not?” Dean asks incredulously. 

“I swore I was done hunting.” Sam says. “For good.” 

“Come on. It wasn’t easy but it wasn’t  _ that bad. _ ” Dean says, heading for the door.

“Oh yeah?” Sam asks as we follow him. I listen to the boys bicker about whether hunting had ruined our lives or not until we get outside. 

“The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets,” Sam says as we walk to the car. “Man Dean, we were raised like  _ warriors _ .”

“So what you’re just going to live some normal apple pie life?” Dean questions. 

I sigh. In the weeks before Sammy had left for Stanford I had heard this exact same argument several times between the two boys.

And I listen to it again, up until Dean accuses Sam of running away. 

“I was just going to college.” Say says. “It was dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone.”

That was true. The four of us had always fought, but that night John said that was one of the worst fights we’d ever been in.

“I hate to pull you out of college and drag you back into all of this Sam.” I say. “But John is in trouble, and we’re the only one’s who know and can help right now.”

There’s a pause, as Sam looks back and forth between us, as if he’s trying to decide whether ot not he should just go back inside.

“We can’t do this alone.” Dean finally says. 

“Yes you can.” Sam says.

“Yeah…well we don’t want to.”

Sam looks at both of us, silent as he debates with himself. Eventually he sighs and closes his eyes, giving in. “What was he hunting?”


End file.
